Popping Cherries

I can’t stop biting my thumb nail, and I feel extremely jittery. Renee has suddenly become my new best friend in this mental place and she does all of the talking. Though her most recent favourite thing to pester me about is my ‘secret crush’. The head councilor Jane has been trying to get it out of me for two weeks and my brain feels about ready to implode.

So I decide to hide myself behind a clump of trees and take deep breaths, flexing my hands open and closed.

Today Jane wanted to take everyone to the local hotdog place. I don’t eat meat, so I was left behind with Tabitha, who finds all food disgusting except for oatmeal, and the main care-giver Hannah.

Hannah sits on a bench, leisurely reading a book while Tabitha wanders around the garden bed poking at flowers and pretending to eat them. Or maybe she is. I can’t bloody tell from behind this tree and being so far away.

All I really want to do is stare at the koi fish and think of Cashier Girl. If I could just remember her name… Why is everything so fucking difficult to concentrate on?

Memories of the first couple of days of being here start trickling in. I scrunch my eyes shut and grip a low hanging branch in a death vice.

Gasping, gulping for air.

I can’t stop clawing at the mattress I have been strapped to. There’s a loud noise ringing in my ears on and off and I soon begin to realize it is my own voice. Slowly it’s becoming hoarse and my mouth feels ridiculously dry.

Just give me the fucking drugs!

I want to scream it out but all I can do is scream nonsensical things.

There is a prick in my arm and I’m begging that it is the cocaine flooding my system. Instead I only black out moments after.

Sweat drips off of my nose and disappears into the lush green at my feet. My breath is ragged and my free hand is grasping my side.

God, will the memories ever stop?

“Hey, Oli,” Renee’s voice chirps behind me, I turn and quickly try to recover, “I brought you a salad.” Forcing a smile, I take it and sit as measurably as possible on the ground. Renee joins me, concern etched in her scrunched brows, “How did you end up in California?”

Suddenly, I’m even less hungry then before.

Staring at the grass, I begin to pull out a piece at a time, “Because of a woman who fucked me over.”

She nods as if this is a normal occurrence to her and she begins to casually eat a left over hotdog.

I continue, “I met her a while back, shortly after graduating. She was at a show of mine in Sheffield… I was instantly infatuated: tall and sexy, long hair and a lovely American accent. Her confidence was brimming and she grinned at me like she knew, knew, she had me in the palm of her hand before even having to say anything. Why she wanted to come back to California is that her family lives here, and like a stupid idiotic cunt I am, I had followed.

If I knew what I know now, I would have slit my own throat before going near her. She is the reason I am in here, in this rehab hellhole and she’s not even being punished. The fucking bitch got off with a pat on the hand!”

By now I am shaking and I dig my fingers into the grass and dirt. I take a deep breath.

“What is her name?”

Letting the air rush out of my mouth, I reply, “Rose Atwood.”